


Escaping Jaws

by Hungry Trashlord (rapono)



Series: Devoured by Daylight [4]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Fearplay, Soft Vore, Swearing, Trapper be like, Unwilling, Vore, but Dwight is like, canon typical blood/violence, choosing favorites, into my belly that's where, oh boy I'm back at it again, request, sort of a sequel to vori mori, tunneling, where you going looking like a snacc, yeah no fuck that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-16 18:19:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18696787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rapono/pseuds/Hungry%20Trashlord
Summary: Since the unvorechurnate incident, Dwight hadn't been in a trial against the Trapper, nor moried in such an irregular way. This time however, it seemed his luck had finally run out.





	Escaping Jaws

**Author's Note:**

> Had a ~~recent~~ request for more Trapper vore, and luckily a good idea came to mind. So here's the more direct sequel to Vori Mori, but still taking place after the events of the earlier fics in this series.
> 
> This one's a quite a bit more bloody than previous (or any vore fic I've done up to this point). While I think it might not warrant the big warning, I bumped up the rating just in case.

As his head had been drawn in deeper down the Trapper's gullet, one thing had become clear to Dwight. He was afraid of being eaten. He'd never once had such a possibility come up, where he might've considered being afraid of it. Yet when he experienced it firsthand, there was no doubt about it.

The incident haunted his fleeting dreams, sometimes causing him to wake up in a cold sweat. He’d only talked to Claudette about it, too anxious and embarrassed to let the worried insomniac know the reason for his restlessness. 

By chance or mercy, the entity had seemingly spared him for now. Dwight hadn’t seen the Trapper since he passed out inside of him, and any other killers that might've intended to consume him hadn’t done so yet. Many a trial he’d gone through without incident, regardless of whether he survived or not.

Still, he couldn’t help feel uneasy as the fog swallowed him up this time, as if his luck had finally run out.

There was a semblance of relief however, as a long field of cornstalks soon outstretched before him. The Thompson Farm was one of maps survivors preferred, Dwight included, as he slipped between the tall stalks. He felt safe, letting his uneasiness ebb away.

His aimless wander was interrupted as his shoe caught on something, almost causing him to trip. Confused, he looked down at the offending object, only for his blood to run cold.

A bear trap, closed and waiting to be set. The killer was the Trapper. 

Gulping audibly, Dwight tried not to panic, the need to find a generator now all the more urgent. He needed to get out of here, as soon as possible. What if the Trapper intended to gobble him up again?

Luckily, he found a small clearing within the corn, a generator seated within it. With no time to lose, he set to work on it immediately. 

He was close to completion, when he felt it. The thumping in his chest, pulse racing faster and faster. Usually he’d commit, knowing he had the time, but there was no way he was gonna let the Trapper find him.

So with reluctance, he pulled away from his nearly complete generator, attempting to make his way back into the thick of the cornfield without being seen.

Unfortunately, lady luck was not on his side, as before he could hide away behind the stalks, a familiar hulking figure walked into the clearing.

Gazes meeting, the pair stopped in their tracks, neither making a move to close or increase the distance between them. With the only sound being a subtle heartbeat and the gentle rustling of the stalks, they stared into each other's eyes, unmoving. The stillness was broken however, as the Trapper made a gesture towards him.

He pointed at Dwight, before patting his gut.

Fairfield felt his own stomach drop as his worst fear had been confirmed. His body began to tremble, as the Trapper simply stood before him, free hand still resting on his midsection.

In the distance, a generator was completed.

With no intention to be within a hundred feet of the hungry killer, Dwight bolted into the corn, praying to the entity that no trap lay ready for him within it.

The unshakable thrumming of his heartbeat in his head remained a constant as he dashed through the stalks. He didn’t have to look behind him to know he was being followed.

To his horror, the corn wasn’t helping Dwight lose him.

So blindly running forward in hopes of finding something to put between him and killer, he started to beg. He knew it wouldn’t work, but if it had the sliver of a chance of making the Trapper hesitate, it felt worth it.

“Leave me alone!”

He wasn’t sure if the killer heard him, or even responded.

“Please go away!”

Just over the heartbeat, he swore he heard a chuckle, the Trapper seemingly amused by his request.

He could see it now, the red stain slowly gaining on him, the distance between them closing. Any moment now, the blade would strike his back.

But blessed be his wooden savior, he spotted a pallet nearby. He changed his trajectory, running as hard as he could towards it, praying he'd make it in time.

Just as his ears caught the sound of metal slicing through air, his fingers grasped the multi-coloured wood, and with a strong and desperate tug, yanked it behind him. He heard the sound of metal on wood and a familiar groan, as he'd managed to stun the Trapper with the pallet.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, he turned to look back at the killer, the wooden structure keeping him safe, for now.

“Please, please stop trying to eat me.”

A dark laugh rumbled out of the Trapper, as the red light washed over the slightly shaking survivor.

“Oh, and why should I? After all, you taste the most delicious.”

“Wh-what do you mean I taste the most-” Dwight laughed nervously, cutting himself off as that information hit him.

The Trapper raised his boot, sending it crashing down on the wooden pallet, and again, with the clear intent of breaking it. Not willing to stick around to get an explanation, Dwight ran, hoping he'd find someway to loose him.

Because by the sound of it, the Trapper only intended on consuming him. And that meant he was going to get tunneled.

He snuck back into the corn, careful not to leave any scratch marks, trying to keep his breaths calm and even. He couldn’t walk quickly while crouching, not like Nea, but he knew it would reduce the chances of him being seen.

He held his breath as the Trapper lumbered by him, scanning the stalks for a sign of the anxious leader. He walked past him, almost brushing against him, the killer growling in frustration. He knew Dwight was near, but he had no idea where.

Desperate to get away, he let himself breathe in, resisting the urge to gasp for air. He slowly crouch-walked away from the Trapper, carefully increasing the distance between them.

Just as the terror radius was fading away, it kicked up again, as the Trapper circled back near him. He was looking more carefully now, searching close to Dwight, but never quite leaving his area.

It was then Dwight realised the Trapper had brought Whispers.

Panic started to set in as he realised he’d never be able to get away, not when the Trapper always knew if he was near. So just barely avoiding another close call, he waited until the Trapper was further away, before making a bolt away.

Running without any clear direction, he stumbled across a generator, and with it, Claudette. Terror radius currently not pounding in his ears, he decided against yelling to her, not wanting to give the Trapper an update on where he was.

“Dwight! You found the killer?” She noticed the distressed look on his face, giving him a concerned one.

“Y-yeah, it’s, it’s the Trapper.” He tried to keep his voice calm, but kept stuttering. He was still too panicked, too afraid of being caught. “Claudette he, he wants to _eat me again_.” His last words were barely audible, as he started to break down into tears infront of her. 

Claudette brought him into a hug, and Dwight devolved into a stuttering and weeping mess. He couldn’t help it, he was absolutely terrified. Just the thought of being eaten, along with being specifically targeted and hunted down, was too overwhelming for him. He gripped her shirt tightly, her embrace comforting.

Too soon, the moment was interrupted by nearing sound of the Trapper’s presence drumming in his ears. Dwight reacted to it like he’d been shot, quickly getting as low as he could, trying to stay out of sight, attempting to stop his crying.

Back pressed against the generator, he clamped his hands over his mouth as the footsteps neared, hoping the killer wouldn’t check the side he was on. 

Claudette stayed nearby on the opposite side, standing her ground, a steely-eyed look on her as she stood her ground. She was buying him time, attempting to be a distraction.

Dwight held back a whimper as the Trapper leaned against the generator, the machinery groaning under his weight.

“So, where is he?”

His voice was deep and commanding, a chill trailing down Dwight's spine. Too close.

“Not here, he kept on running.” Claudette's voice trembled ever so slightly, as she stood by defiantly.

The Trapper glanced around, not moving from his position, likely scanning for scratch marks. He chuckled darkly, slamming a fist on the generator. Dwight did his best to muffle a whimper, curling up even more.

“Oh? If he left, then why aren’t you running?”

That seemed to shut her up, Claudette seemingly unable to come up with a response on the spot. She shifted slightly, as if considering whether or not to run now.

He heard the Trapper laugh again, the generator creaking as the killer shifted his weight.

“So, if he didn’t leave, that must mean-"

Without warning, the large metal cleaver swung down on Dwight's side of the generator, missing his head by a few inches and denting the machinery where it struck. He shrieked, scrambling away on his hands and knees, trying to get back on his feet. The Trapper looked down at him, likely grinning with glee.

“Found you~.” 

There was an uncharacteristically sing-song tone in his voice as he said those words, showing how teasingly delighted he was to get his prey out of hiding. It only proved to deepen the pit of dread in Dwight's stomach, as he finally found his footing and made a mad dash away.

He heard Claudette cry out in pain, and chanced a glance behind him.

She had thrown herself infront of the killer, in an attempt to get him to chase her instead.

Dwight could hear him growl in frustration, her reckless decision making it harder for the killer to catch him. He kept up the pace, legs burning, praying a silent thanks to her. He'd have to give her one of his instant-heals after the trial.

He risked another glance, finding the Trapper had hesitated. Another generator had been completed in the distance, and Dwight knew he’d likely need a sacrifice to appease the entity. 

Regardless, Dwight knew he was going to be tunneled, and turned back to focus on gaining more distance. His steps became rhythmic with his beating heart.

The terror radius grew quieter.

Relief started to flood his system, but he did his best to close the gate again. He didn’t want get his hopes up for nothing, nor trip up in conference.

So he kept running, legs pounding the dirt in the rhythmic steps he did in every trial. At the very least, one of the only good things he could say about being stuck in the entity, is that it got him fit.

Another window was vaulted, as his thumping heartbeat slowly faded, until only the normal amount of hearing his pulse remained.

He glanced behind him once more, and his hope surged.

He was gaining distance. Just a few more obstacles between them an-

**_SNAP_ **

The sharp pain that erupted from his leg as metal jaws dug into his flesh was all he needed to know that it was all over. He cried out in pain and shock, hoping ever so desperately a fellow survivor would reach him before the killer did.

The second the shock wore off, his hands immediately flew to the trap, as he attempted to pry himself free. With what little time he had, he yanked desperately at the metal jaws, crying out yet still powering through the pain that came with every failure.

It wasn’t long before his heart drummed loudly in his ears. His time as almost up. With only seconds to spare, he gave it one last desperate attempt, no longer caring that the metal teeth were now tearing the skin off his hands. 

And with a click, he was free.

There was not a moment of peace to recover, as Dwight stumbled to his feet, ignoring the screaming pain as he tried to get away. There was a pallet only a couple of meters away, only a few seconds from safety. 

His hope was quickly cut down as a cleaver cut into his back. 

The force of the blow coupled with the pain of the wound caused him to collapse into the dirt, leaving him downed and unable to get back up. Pain and desperation kicking back in, he tried his best to crawl away, but he knew there’s a no escape. 

The Trapper chuckled at his feeble attempt to escape, as he kneeled over his fallen prey, a simple hand pressed against his bleeding back keeping him pinned and unable to crawl away.

“Where do you think you’re going, my little cinnamon roll?”

Dwight squirmed beneath his hold, tears running down his cheeks before mixing with the bloodied dirt below. 

“Such a shame I had to cut you up. If you had given up willingly, this would’ve been much less painful for you.”

All he could do was whimper as the Trapper traced a finger along the slash across his back, as if admiring his own work.

“It’s been so long. I’ve been saving my mori just for you.”

Dwight suddenly found himself yanked off the dirty ground, as he was forced into a semi-kneeling position. Once somewhat upright, his head was roughly shoved against the Trapper’s chest. Startled and confused, he didn’t resist, unsure of what the killer was trying to do.

Then he heard it, a sound kicked his fear into high gear. A stomach growl.

The Trapper was hungry.

“Can you hear that? Even my stomach misses you.”

With that, weeping broke into full blown sobbing, as he realized there truly was no escape. So with no options left, he begged.

“Ple-ease, don’t eat me...”

His pleas were quiet and distorted by his sobbing, as he begged and begged again, with hopeless desperation.

“Please, please, please don't… I don’t wanna go back in, not again, not again, not again… please… please don’t do this to me…”

“Aww, where would be the fun in that?”

Dwight found himself abruptly dropped back onto the dirt, wincing in pain. He tried to crawl away again, wishing he’d learned how to pick himself up like David and Bill. Why’d he have to be so weak and useless?

Large hands wrapped around his ankles, lifting his legs up and removing his shoes. The Trapper tossed them aside, giving no care to where they went.

“You won’t need those anymore.”

Dwight caught a glimpse of the Trapper’s mask being pushed upwards, before his feet were suddenly surrounded by wet warmth.

Dwight shrieked, attempting to kick and pull his legs from their wet prison. All he got in response was pain, as the Trapper licked at his gouged ankle. He squirmed and cried out now both in fear and pain, attempting to dig his torn up hands into the dirt below him, but all to no avail.

“PLEASE! PLEASE STOP! IT HURTS PLEASE IT HURTS!" He screamed his pleas, throat starting to burn with rawness.

Surprisingly, for once, the Trapper listened, and stopped aggravating the wound. Instead, he swallowed, dragging Dwight in deeper, yet being oddly gentle as his ankle slipped down his throat. He whimpered, face covered with snot and tears, hands with blood and dirt, body torn up and worn out.

“Please… let me go...”

He didn’t expect a response, his own voice likely too hushed and strained, and the killer with a mouthful. The sound of “mm-mm" rumbled around his legs, a no.

He knew he shouldn’t have hoped for a yes.

He shuddered as more and more of him was pulled inside, able to feel the muscles of the throat rippling around his legs, pulling him in deeper and deeper. His nails still dug into the dirt below him, only aggravating his shredded hands more. Cuts stung as they were coated in saliva, his mind overloaded with panic and dread.

He was up to his chest, feeling almost suffocated, feet already plunging into the stomach juices, soaking his socks completely. His whole body shuddered, repulsed and distressed by all the sensations of the fleshy prison slowly surrounding him. He did his best to kick at the stomach walls, as more of him slid inside, with the shred of hope Trapper would at least get a stomach ache.

Too soon, lips and teeth circled his neck, closing around it lightly in a taunting manner. All be could do was stifle a whimper, not wanting to give the monster of a man anymore satisfaction then he was already having. 

Dwight lingered in that position, Trapper having an odd moment of hesitation, holding back the urge to swallow. Before Dwight had a second to guess why, a large hand promptly plucked his glasses from his face, smudging them with more blood on the process.

Like taking candy from baby, Dwight's vision had been snatched from him like a prize, leaving him blind and even more distressed. He could barely see, but he could still feel, feel the flesh undulating around him, squeezing but not quite suffocating, as Trapper began swallowing once more.

At least he didn't have to worry about breaking his glasses.

But now he was blind, the only thing he was able to see was the light slowly getting consumed by the darkness. Panic rising drastically, his survival instincts were rekindled, as his head entered his maw, free hand clawing uselessly at the air. He threw a fit, like a child worn out from playing but not ready to head home. But just as before, his efforts were for naught.

He didn’t want to go in, no, not again, he couldn’t do this again. The tears and sobbing started once again, as every fibre of his being screamed in distress.

“Please, somebody help me!” His last words were barely audible, drowned out by his own sobbing.

A blurry shape came into view, a survivor? He couldn’t tell. Not until the vague humanoid shape came close enough, Dwight just able to make out beanie on the head of them as they sprinted towards him.

“Nea!”

His hand was still outstretched as his head was engulfed, his vision quickly consumed by darkness.

This was it. It was over, he’d become nothing but lunch for the Trapper once more.

He felt a hand grab his own, trying it’s best to pull him back out. He gripped it like his life depended on it, which wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Dwight hold on!”

Nea's voice rang through, slightly muffled by the flesh surrounding him but perfectly audible. Hope bubbled up in his chest, as he held on with an iron grasp, despite the stinging pain from his shredded skin.

With a mighty tug, his head popped back out of the killer's mouth, Dwight gasping as fresh air and light hit him once more. Still blind from missing his glasses, he did his best to try and see his savior.

Her outline was much more visable, because still blurry, but her iconic beanie was unmistakable. There was someone else behind her, as the flesh surrounding and pulling him down was starting to lose the fight.

He was getting out! He wasn’t going to be eaten!

A growl rumbled around him, as the sound of the cleaver hitting flesh became audible. He could hear her cry out, the blade cutting through his only hope, as his vision was filled with red.

Everything seemed to slow down, as he felt her fingers slip, coated with something sticky. Dwight tried to scream, but nothing came out of his mouth, as his world was once again consumed by flesh and darkness.

Dwight could barely register what was happening anymore. His mind was overwhelmed with negative stimuli and emotions, the constant peristalsis not helping in the slightest. As he finally slipped into his wet and lightless tomb, all he could do was curl into a ball and cry, whole body shaking in fear.

Everything hurt, his hands his leg his back, cut open and still bleeding, mixing with the fluids below. With a choked laugh, he realized he was likely gonna bleed out in the Trapper’s gut.

Then, breaking through the all-surrounding heartbeat and and gurgling, he could hear Nea. With a sniffle, he stifled his crying, trying his best to hear what was going on outside.

“Damn it. Let him go you bastard! Eat me instead!”

“Oh, I’m sure someone else else will enjoy your salty taste.”

Dwight winced as he hear her cry out in pain, guilt flooding through his head. It was his fault she hard been, it was his fault Claudette had been hurt. They should have abandoned his mousey ass to be eaten by the cat. He wasn't worth the trouble.

His world shifted as he assumed the Trapper leaned down to pick her up, just barely able to hear Nea grunt. The stomach swayed slightly with his steps, sloshing around the liquids that stung everytime they touched his wounds.

It wasn’t long before Nea screamed and he knew what he been done.

“I'm sorry,” he said, too quiet for anymore to hear, “it’s all my fault.”

The Trapper sighed with satisfaction jarring Dwight slightly as he gave his gut a pat. He was just food after all.

“Ok ya cunt, get a bite o this! I’m much meatier than scrawny lil Dwight.”

Was… was that David? Even he was…

“Come ovah here and get some o this meat!”

Even he was trying to help him. He, he mattered to them. They all cared enough about him to be willing to take his place.

For once inside the belly of the beast, Dwight smiled.

But that did nothing to change his situation.

His senses began to waver, Dwight feeling lightheaded and woozy as he slumped against the stomach walls, tears still steaming down his face. Confused and distressed, he called out 

“Da… vid… I don’t feel... okay…” 

It came out strained and hushed, Dwight having to exert himself to say the words. Exhaustion crept into his limbs, as his fingers started to feel numb.

Oh. He was still bleeding. A choked laugh came out of him as he realized he was dying from blood loss. He was going to bleed out inside the killer’s gut.

He didn’t want to die like this.

“Please…” he begged, to the Trapper, to the entity. Voice weak and strained from his earlier screaming. “I don’t wanna… please… not… in here… let me out…”

He could barely tell what was happening anymore, unsure if the Trapper had stopped moving, or if he had just lost his sense of motion. There was a light pressure, something pressed against the stomach walls, perhaps a hand pressed against his gut.

“I’m sorry I had to hurt you, but I couldn’t let you get away from me.”

Dwight wasn’t sure he had heard that or was simply delusional, as his ears began to ring and stars ended before his eyes.

“But… why me…”

Senses numbed and bled out of him, his fleshy prison seemingly growing tighter and smaller. He prayed when he woke it would be back at the campfire, before his consciousness slipped into nothingness.

**Author's Note:**

> I've got a couple more ideas/concepts for this series that I'm working on. It might take a long time, just hopefully not as long as this one. ^^;
> 
> If you wanna request something, go ahead. Can't guarantee I'll write it, but if it's a good concept and I got the motivation, I just might make it.


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